I stood on the stony beach of the Riviera in the hot morning sun, watching the seagulls bobbing on the waves where the waters of the Var River flow gently out of its wide mouth to mingle with the salty Mediterranean Sea. All was quiet. It was too early in the day for the holiday beach-goers to be up. Suddenly, the seagulls lifted into the air as one, screeching loudly in protest as a large plane flew just over their heads and touched down on the Nice airport runway on the opposite bank of the river of the river.

I hadn’t come to watch the planes but to contemplate the river at its endpoint. The Var River had intrigued me since I moved to the Cote d’Azur many years ago, as I often crossed it when driving from my home in the hills behind the coast on my way to Nice or to Italy to visit my parents-in-law. From where in the Alps did it flow? Why is it called the Var when it does not flow through the region by the same name? On this hot summer day, tempted by the cooler climate of the mountains behind the city, I set out to follow it upstream in search of answers and adventure.

“This great madman, fit for nothing and incapable of being brought to its senses.” That was how Marquis Sébastien Le Prestre de Vauban, one of the most celebrated civil engineers in the history of France, described the 125-kilometer (78-mile) run of the Var River back in the 17th century. Its course has been partially tamed by dams and dikes over the centuries, but the Var still has a tumultuous history of disastrous flooding. In 1996 this deceptively calm river rose so quickly that the resulting floodwaters killed seven people and caused catastrophic damage to property and land along its length.

Nice and surroundings have been fully part of France since 1860. Previously, the area had various masters (Provence, Savoy, Sardinia, briefly France). At times, the Var River served as a natural border between ruling parties. A possession of the Kingdom of Sardinia in the mid-19th century, Nice and surroundings, were transferred to France, then under Napoleon III, in exchange for France’s military aid in keeping Austrian forces out of the Italian states. The Savoy region further north along the Alps was also embraced by France (and vice versa) at the time. Before the exchange, the Var territory stretched further to the east than it does now, bordering the river that gave it its name. The border of the department of Var is now drawn further west, leaving the Var River to run mostly through the department of Alpes-Maritimes, with a twist through Alpes-de-Haute-Provence, as it reaches Entrevaux.

Entrevaux

Leaving the stony beach and harried seagulls behind, I followed the road that mirrors the flow of the river, towards the Alps, now the formidable border between France and Italy. At the beginning of the drive, the river and road cuts through the middle of a wide plain corralled by steep hills on either side. Occasionally, the road passes through sleepy, candy-colored villages shaded by plane trees. Just over an hour’s drive from Nice, the medieval village of Entrevaux looms into view.

Entrevaux clings to the side of a steep rocky outcrop, protected on three sides by the swirling river. The only feasible entry to the pedestrian village is via an ancient stone bridge arching high above the turbulent waters, and through a menacing portcullis that was built to keep invading hordes out of the village streets and protect the castle perched high on the promontory above. The walk up to the castle starts from the cliff side of the town by way of a cobbled path of unshaded switchbacks. I trudged upwards in the summer heat, wishing fervently that I had brought a bottle of water. The exploration of the half-ruined castle and the spectacular views up and down the Var Valley made the hike to the top very much worth it.

The Daluis Gorge

After a rejuvenating ice cream and now armed with a large bottle of water, I returned to the car to continue the drive alongside the river. Just a five-minute drive further up the valley from Entrevaux lies the hidden entrance to the Daluis Valley. A road sign points into a tunnel chipped out of a rock wall, where the river makes a sudden right-hand turn through a narrow cut in the seemingly impenetrable cliff. As I emerged from the unlit tunnel, the valley opened out before me like a verdant Land of the Lost, with the sparkling river bordered on either side by empty green fields and steep tree-covered hills. The road then winds up into the mountains following the river and passing through the stunning, narrow Daluis Gorge. On entering the gorge, the rocks and even the road itself become a dark red color in this area formed 250-million years ago from iron-rich volcanic ash.

I stopped at the Berthéou Bridge and set out to search for a viewpoint where I could eat my picnic lunch. After a short hike over purple and red rocks, I came to the aptly named Point Subline outlook. The cliff here juts out into the gorge to give a stunning view of the entire valley from the mountain peaks at one end to the grassy plains at the other. I cautiously approached the guard-rail and peered over it to the churning river hemmed in by steep dark walls far below. After backing gingerly away from the vertiginous drop, I settled myself on a large rock and ate my sandwich while studying the vertical wall across the valley, trying to spot all the dark mouths of the mine entrances vertiginously cut into the rock walls hundreds of meters above the valley floor. From prehistoric times to the early 20th century, people risked their lives digging for copper and other sought-after minerals here, using ladders and ropes to scale the cliffs to mines that are no longer accessible.

Discovering The Source

As I travelled further up the valley and into steeper mountain terrain, the Var River became smaller, constrained by its surroundings to create waterfalls that led it on its downward path toward the sea.

In the late afternoon, I finally arrived at Estenc, a tiny village nestled at the end of the valley just below the 2,326-meter (7631-foot) high Cayolle Pass. Enjoying the cool mountain air, I walked along a signposted trail to a pretty lake, then with mounting excitement to the source of the Var just beyond the lake. I pushed through some bushes and came face to face with a very small, muddy pool leaking brackish water.

The sight was underwhelming yet it was accompanied by the great pleasure of knowing that that this humble beginning is the start of a powerful river that has had such a huge impact for centuries on the people and landscape along its length.

I stared at the mud puddle for a few minutes, then walked back to the quaint 2-star Relais de la Cayolle, the only hotel in Estenc. There, I enjoyed a hearty dinner of coq au vin and zucchini gratin, before settling in for the night. I was lulled to sleep by a silence broken only by the occasional owl hooting and the splashing of the Var River as it begins its journey through the valley and down to the coast.

If you go

Relais de la Cayolle, Route des Grandes Alpes, Hameau d’Estenc, 06470 Etraunes. The hotel has no website. To reserve a room and/or book a table at the restaurant call +33 (0)4 93 05 51 33.

For those without a car, it is possible to enjoy the rugged and spectacular views on a day trip into the Riviera’s back-country from Nice to Entrevaux on the Train des Pignes. See the official website of the Pignes tourist train for information for schedules and prices.

Text and photos © 2022, Lisa Watson.

The post The Riviera Backcountry: In Search of the Source of the Var River appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

Call it a combination of luck and due diligence then, and as a result we hit it right at Sénanque Abbey, we hit it right on the plateau surrounding Sault, we hit it right at various points in between, and from time to time we were wowed by bright, eye-catching sunflower fields.

Stunning views of purple-blue fields of lavender in bloom are far from the only pleasure of Provence, but such images have become so engrained in the traveler’s imagination of the perfect Provence vacation that the most common question I get from those planning to visit the region is “When is the lavender in bloom?”

When is lavender in bloom, and where?

Broadly speaking, Provence’s “blue gold” blooms from early June to mid-August, even beyond, though the edges of that 10-week window can be iffy. So let’s say mid-June to late-July to be sure.

That doesn’t mean you’ll find flowering fields everywhere during that period. Lavender—both “true” lavender and the hybrid lavandin—blooms at different times, in different locations, at different altitudes. It stays in color for a month or more before being harvested, again at different times, locations, altitudes. So don’t come expecting to find all of the fields in full color throughout the summer.

Lavender fields typically begin to flower east of the Rhone River around the second week in June in the lower altitudes in the department of Drôme (particularly in its southern portion known as Drôme Provençale) and in the northern portion of the department of Vaucluse, as well as in Vaucluse’s southern portion in and around the Luberon (e.g. Gordes, Sénanque).

One morning last year, on a 7th of June, while biking along the northern side of the Luberon, after passing several brown-grey fields, I sensed a haze of the palest of purples hanging like fog over long rows of planted mounds—or it was a mirage?

Depending on the type of plant, the weather and the altitude, the flowering begins a week or two or three later on the slopes and especially plateaus further from the Rhone River in Drome, Vaucluse (e.g. Sault) and Alpes du Haute Provence (e.g. Valensole), as well as in bordering departments.

While harvesting of the lower fields may begin as early as July 1, harvesting at the higher altitudes won’t be underway until the second half of the month, possibly not until the end of July or even well into August.

If your sense of the geography of the above-mentioned areas is unclear, see this map of approximate blooming and harvest periods.

Within the periods indicated on that map, those lovely lavender fields won’t be everywhere. You may have to go looking for them. But don’t make a detour to distant fields without first asking someone in the know, such as at a local tourist office. Otherwise, you may arrive only to find long mounds of dirt, as though the fields were a graveyard for the sandworms from Dune. Imagine how disheartening it can be to arrive at a field of dreams only to be told, “Oh, you should have been here yesterday, before the harvest. It was beautiful.”

Travelers needing a lavender fix while visiting the Riviera from mid-July into August may try venturing up to the fields north of Grasse.

Several years ago, on a 6th of August, while accompanying a group that had despaired of not seeing blooming lavender fields at the lower altitudes during their stay, I called around to find out if there had been any lavender sightings that week. Armed with an answer, I then led the group on a long detour from our long-planned itinerary to the vast fields on the eastern side of the Valensole Plateau where, bingo, there it was. Though not the bright magenta or electric purple promised in the glossies or the shocking blue or dark violet seen in photowashed travelgrams, it was a sight to behold: a true pale herbal floral lavender dancing in the breeze atop rounded bushes that snaked in long curving rows pointing toward the Alps.

From year to year and zone to zone, blooming and harvest times will vary. Therefore, when asked to help travelers with planning months in advance of a trip, I advise them to think of colorful lavender fields as a treat rather than a destination so as to avoid breaking any hearts (and getting blamed when lavender dreams turn to dirt).

Learning about Lavender and Lavandin

Along with the pleasure to the eyes, shops throughout Provence sell lavender-scented and lavender-based products for the pleasure of the nose and of the skin—soaps, creams, perfumes, fragrances, sachets, etc.—and of the mouth in the case of lavender honey (the real kind from bees working in the lavender fields). For my taste, lavender honey can be too intensely lavender for most uses, but adding a few dabs to a baguette-and-butter breakfast tartine makes for a sweet and soothing start to the day.

You’ll find lavender products wherever you go in the region. Sénanque Abbey, for example, has a large selection in their shop of monastic products. Nearby, in Cabrières-d’Avignon, between L’Isle sur la Sorgue and Gordes, the Lavender Museum / Musée de la Lavande can teach you about the growing, harvesting and distilling of lavender.

This summer, I chose the Vallon des Lavandes Distillery and neighboring fields in the Sault countryside for our picture-perfect lavender education. The drive itself from the small town of Mazan, where we were staying, offered stunning views of Mont Ventoux before we rounded one final hill and the purple fields around Sault opened before us. Sault (pronounced so, not salt, with a short, crisp o) is on the Vaucluse edge of the Albion Plateau, which covers the corner where Drome, Vaucluse and Alpes du Haute Provence meet. The Albion Plateau is one of the major lavender producing areas of Provence and therefore, when in bloom, among its most photogenic.

So (pronounced Sault), after parking at the distillery, we took an easy and delightful hike along an outlined Lavender Trail. The area isn’t heavily trafficked, but be sure to watch for cars when walking on the road portion of the 5k/3mi trail. (If you drive around the plateau, don’t just stop in your tracks to take in a view but pull over to a secure area.) While you shouldn’t walk into the lavender fields out of respect for the plants and their owner’s private property, I know of no visitor who can resist stepping into the fields for a photo, including this one.

During a tour of its 1947 distillery, the staff at the Vallon de Lavande provides an excellent introduction to the planting and growth of lavender and its common hybrid lavandin and especially to the extraction of essential oils. Lavandin represents three-quarters of the harvest at the 45-hectare (111-acre) domain. It produces six times more oil than true lavender and contains far more camphor, while true lavender, we were told, currently sells for about 180€/kg, about eight times more than lavandin. Some 150kg of plant are required to extract 1kg of oil of true lavender. The deflowered plants serve as combustible for the distillation.

Since it can be quite hot in the afternoon in summer, better to hit the Lavender Trail in the morning, followed by a visit to the distillery. Then drive up the hill to the center of Sault for lunch. We enjoyed a nice meal and a wide view over the plateau from the back terrace of O Pichoun. We followed that up with a pleasant little walk-about in Sault and sniffed into several lavender shops before the pretty ride home.

Sault holds a festival to celebrate lavender in the middle of August, when any remaining flowers are usually cut down. Valensole holds its lavender festival in mid-July.

Sault Cyclists and Mont Ventoux

In Sault in summer, serious bikers abound in their tight shorts and click-clacking cycling shoes. That’s because Sault is a stop on or the starting point for three cycling loops for sporty road bikers:

– an athletic loop that follows the gorge of the Nesque River then back along the hills via Méthamis;
– a lavender-tinged loop along and around the Sault portion of the Albion Plateau,
– and a challenging, 24-km / 15-mi climb to the bald summit of Mont Ventoux, followed by a dangerously high-speed decent back toward Sault.

Regarding the ascension of Mont Ventoux, in-shape road cyclists and those on electric bikes might feel that the first 10 miles from Sault are no more than strenuous, but the true test of fitness comes with the final 10-degree assault. Though the climb from Sault is challenging, the other two ascension routes to the top of Ventoux—from Malaucène and from Bédoin—are even more so, which is why Sault makes for a more popular basecamp. The mountains summit has recently been made more cyclist and pedestrian friendly. Be sure to check the weather report before setting out.

Spelt and Goats

Along with sightings of lavender fields, fruit orchards (cherries, almonds, apricots, etc.) and the occasional sunflower field, you may not recognize fields of small spelt (petit épeautre in French), an ancient grain that’s at home in the hills and plateaus of Provence to the east of Ventoux in the departments of Vaucluse and Haute (Upper) Provence. You’ll find petit épeautre listed on menus as an accompaniment to fish and meat dishes in the region. It’s prepared in much the same way as rice. You may also come across some goats as you bike or drive through the region, which is to be expected given the abundance of goat cheese in the local food markets.

Addresses and further information

Lavender distillery: Sylvie and Thierry Barjot’s Vallon des Lavandes, 965 Route du Vallon (Ancienne route d’Aurel), Le Vallon, one mile north of the village of Sault. Open for free visits July and Aug. Mon-Sat. and upon reservation April-June and Sept.-Oct. See schedule here. There’s a small lavender shop on site.

For other lavender addresses in Vaucluse see here.

Restaurant: O Pichoun, Avenue de la Promenade, Sault. Ask to be seated on the back terrace. Reservations recommended in summer and weekends.

Hotel: In Sault, the 3-star Hôtel Le Nesk, popular with cyclists, can also be a stopover for lavender hunters.

Cycling: In preparing your cycling trip, a good resource is the official cycling site of the department of Vaucluse, which provides information on routes, rental shops, bike-friendly accommodations, luggage transportation services, etc.). But don’t hesitate to be a cyclist without borders so as to connect with the neighboring department of Drôme to the north and Alpes de Haute Provence to the east. In Sault, Albion Cycles, which rents and repairs bikes, can advise on local cycling routes once in the area. Cyclists can also follow portions of the extensive lavender routes described here.

© 2022, Gary Lee Kraut

The post Sault, Sénanque and the Successful Search for Lavender in Provence appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

Watch below the wide-ranging video interview with Kristen Grauer, the U.S. Consul General in Marseille, conducted by France Revisited’s Gary Lee Kraut on October 8, 2021. (With apologies for pronouncing Madame Consul General’s title as “counsel” instead of “consul.”) Also see further below Marseille & les Américains, a documentary produced with assistance by the consulate about the U.S. presence in southeastern France during and immediately after WWII, from August 1944 until early 1946.

Timeline for the 25-minute video interview
00:00 – Introduction and Kristen Grauer’s background as a career diplomat with the U.S. Department of State.
02:33 – How does the U.S. Consulate General in Marseille help Americans in southern France and Monaco? Lost passports, missing persons, natural disasters and civil unrest.
08:18 – Will the U.S. Consulate get me out of jail if I’m arrested?
10:07 – The U.S. Consulate’s involvement in American economic development.
12:21 – The consulate and the U.S. Sixth Fleet.
13:14 – Operation Dragoon and the invasion of southern France, “the Second D-Day,” in August 1944. (See further information about the landing and about Marseille and the Americans at the bottom of this page.)
17:03 – Kristen Grauer speaks about American WWII heroes Varian Fry, who helped writers, artists and other anti-nazis flee persecution in Europe (the square in front of the consulate has been renamed in his honor) and Vice Consul Hiram Bingham, who bypassed the official policies of the United States in order to provide visas and passports to allow many to obtain visas allowing them escape France.
19:11 – Kristen Grauer’s travels in and impressions of southern France and Monaco.
22:34 – Does Kristen Grauer enjoy the anise-flavored spirit pastis and the rosé wines of Provence? Does she play pétanque?

Kristen Graeur is a career diplomat who previously served in France as the economic officer at the American Embassy in Paris (2010-2013). She most recently served at the U.S. Department of State as the Deputy Director in the Economic Bureau’s Office of Economic Policy and Public Diplomacy. Earlier in her career, she completed tours as an embassy economic officer in Baghdad, Iraq, and Moscow, Russia, and as a political officer in Monrovia, Liberia and Cotonou, Benin. As a career diplomat rather than a political appointee, her assignments don’t necessarily follow the election cycle. She has held her current position as Consul General in Marseille, a 3-year assignment, since the summer of 2020. She is a graduate of the University of Michigan, completed a mid-career Master of Science in National Resource Strategy at the U.S. National Defense University’s Eisenhower School, and is a graduate of the Foreign Service Institute’s long-term economic course. She is married and has two sons.

The U.S. Consulate General in Marseille covers southern France (Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur and Occitanie), Corsica and Monaco. For more information about services provided by the consulate, including its location and contact information, see here.

Operations Dragoon 1944 and Marseille & the Americans

Even among the millions who’ve toured the D-Day Beaches in Normandy, few American visitors to France are aware of the second major D-Day landing in France during the summer of 1944. Code-named Operation Dragoon, it involved the amphibious invasion on August 15, 1944 by the U.S. Seventh Army on a stretch of the Riviera just west of Saint Tropez.

After penetrating inland, forces veered west toward the Rhone Valley. Free French forces then entered the scene to capture the ports of Toulon and Marseille. Led by the Americans, together they pushing German forces to withdraw from the south. Within four weeks, the U.S. forces that had entered from the Riviera linked up with some of those that had earlier entered from Normandy to continue their northern and eastern drive.

Travelers to the region can visit the Rhone American Cemetery in Draguinan, 25 miles from the coast. It’s the burial site of 851 servicemen, with an additional 294 names inscribed on the Wall of the Missing.

After the southern landing and for the following two years, there were major American bases between Marseille and Aix-en-Provence through which two million soldiers would transit. The Consulate General assisted in the creation of a documentary about that American presence. The 4-part documentary entitled Marseille & les Américains is available in French and in English. Here’s Part 1 of the English version.

The Consulate General in Marseille also recently supported an upcoming film on Jamaican-American Harlem Renaissance author Claude Mckay who lived in Marseille from 1924-1929.

The post Video Interview: Kristen Grauer, U.S. Consul General in Marseille appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

From a riverside café to recent entries in Michelin stardom by way of a hilltop restaurant, a family-run institution, a contemporary inn and a basement chef’s table, these chefs and restaurants have been selected are based on my own experiences in 2020 and 2021 and on recommendations from gastronomes, both residents and travelers, whose suggestions I’ve solicited.

This list is not intended as a Vaucluse best-of-the-best but as a way of recognizing the variety of venues for a meal prepared with fresh ingredients and capable hands, in towns and villages of touristic interest in Vaucluse. Kind service was also (and always is) a criterion in selecting these restaurants.

There are certainly other worthy options in the region, and I will add them or eliminate others as I follow the Vaucluse culinary scene through my own travels and through suggestions from knowledgeable residents and travelers. Feel free to send write to me at gary [at] francerevisited.com with your comments about any of these chefs or restaurants or any others that you’ve enjoyed that I might consider in periodically updating this list.

Avignon

La Mirande, Avignon’s premier hotel, presents several eating options, now led by Florent Pietravalle at Le Restaurant. While acknowledging his Michelin stardom, I note that I’m particularly fond of La Mirande’s upbeat basement chef’s table, La Table Haute, where a chef and a commis prepare and present an excellent, semi-rustic meal while doing their best to ensure a convivial atmosphere. Chef Jeff Mouroux and his sidekick Alexandre Malinverno took on the task during my September visit to Avignon. Buyer beware: Despite the chefs’ best efforts, the atmosphere on any given evening depends heavily on the willingness of diners to engage with each other, so only go if you understand the word “conviviality,” and hope the others at your table do as well.
Mathieu Desmarest at Pollen, 18 rue Joseph Vernet, both refined and relaxed, was newly honored in 2021 with a Michelin star. Carte blanche dinner.
Pascal Barnouin at Maison de la Tour, 9 rue de la Tour.
The Hiély family continues to treat hungry diners from near and far to quality bistro fare at La Fourchette, 17 rue Racine.
Justine Imbert’s winning, unpretentious, modestly-priced cuisine kindly served beneath the branches in the charming back courtyard at Au Jardin des Carmes, 21 Place des Carmes. A chef to keep an eye on.
Jon Chiri, an American chef at Les Halles, the central food market of Avignon, was one of my guests on the France Revisited Culinary Conversation of June 29, 2021.
When it comes to the pleasures of sitting alfresco in Avignon, I’m inescapably drawn to Grand Café Baretta, 14 place Saint Didier.

Châteauneuf-du-Pape

Top culinary honors in the village go to Julien Richard’s gastronomy at La Mère Germaine, 3 rue Commandant Lemaitre, in the lower part of this hillside village. Meanwhile, in proper weather, my lunchtime appetite is drawn toward the top of the village, just below the chateau ruins, for a great view and reliably pleasing cuisine at Le Verger des Papes, 2 rue du Château. If you won’t be visiting wine producers out among the vineyards, you can begin your Chateauneuf-du-Pape education with a tasting of two or four wines in the atmospheric wine cellar of Le Verger des Papes. Pursue your education at Vinadéa, 8 rue Maréchal Foch, official boutique of the appellation.

Beaumes-de-Venise

Each evening of my two-night stay in Beaumes de Venise while on a biking trip began with an aperitif at the Café La Forêt “Le Siècle,” a local watering hole at 65 cours Jean Jaures. For dinner, La Table des Balmes, 31 place de l’Eglise, had a well-placed terrace for a satisfying meal in the center of the village. I was even more satisfied by my dinner the following evening in the semi-hidden setting of the semi-Provençale Auberge Saint Roch, 9 route de Caromb.

Vaison-la-Romain

And the buzz goes to… Christophe Wernet at the hip and creative bistro LUM, 55 rue Trogue Pompée.

Pernes-les-Fontaines

Hugues Marrec at Auberge de La Camarette, 439 chemin des Brunettes. La Camarette is une auberge, an inn, rather than un restaurant, says Hugues Marrec, because one doesn’t come to an auberge in search of an extensive menu but instead confident that that the chef is cooking up something worthwhile. Read my article about Chef Marrec here. He was also one of my guests on the France Revisited Culinary Conversation of June 29, 2021 His little inn has only two rooms, worth considering for a night or more if dining here.

Cavaillon

Prévôt, 353 avenue de Verdun, home to the melon king Jean-Jacques Prévôt, accompanied by his daughter Sandra-Rose. It’s been several years since I’ve eaten here, but my memory of Jean-Jacques’ warm and informative tableside manner and of the tasteful, fragrant fare that he prepared for our group of five diverse eaters (a vegan, a vegetarian and three omnivores), not to mention the trip report of recent visitors, keeps this restaurant on my Vaucluse list.

Mazan

Christophe Schuffenecker at La Salle à Manger,  8 place Napoléon, the gastronomic restaurant at the hotel Château de Mazan, four miles west of Carpentras. Awarded a Michelin star in 2021. Update: Christophe Schuffenecker has since left Mazan to manage his own restaurant, La Colombe, six miles north in Bédoin. It’s set to open in early spring 2022.

Fontaine de Vaucluse

Fontaine de Vaucluse, at the source of the Sorgue River, provides a breath of cool, damp air in an otherwise dry region. No need for an address for the friendly, traditional, family-run eatery Philip, just follow the path along the rushing waters leading to the fountain from which the river springs into daylight and you’ll reach it. The restaurant, created in 1926 by Isabelle and Gaston Philip, is now in its fourth generation of family ownership. There’s a fascinating story about the ownership of the land on which it sits. Ask about it when here.
La Figuière, 3 chemin des Gougette, gets a shoutout on the recommendation of traveling gastronomones who laud the hearty and traditional Provençale-leaning cuisine served here, in the shade.

L’Isle sur Sorgue

Enjoyable moments of refined simplicity by Daniel Hébert at Le Jardin du Quai, 91 avenue Julien Guigue, and by Benjamin Fabre at La Balade des Saveurs, 3 quai Jean Jaurès.

Roussillon

Among the ochre hills of Roussillon, Restaurant David at the hotel Le Clos de la Glycine, 1 place de la Poste. I’m adding this to the list on the recommendation of epicurean friends who recently had a deliciously soothing meal there while on a hiking trip in the Luberon.

Cadenet-Lourmarin

Nadia Sammut at Auberge La Fenière, 1680 route de Lourmarin (D943). At her gastronomic restaurant, Nadia Sammut’s precise, innovative cuisine and generous personality can restore the spirit of the fallen, as you can read about in this detailed article of mine. Also watch my Culinary Conversation with the chef here. La Fenière is also a hotel.

Maubec

One of the wonderful cliché fantasies of a stay in Provence involves going food shopping at a farmers or village market then returning, perhaps via vineyards or lavender fields, to a cozy kitchen where you’ll transform your fresh, local finds into tasty dishes while sipping Rhone Valley wines or a Provence rosé, in good cheer, in friendly company,… and in English. Which is why so many chefs in the region offer regular or occasional cooking classes. Jean-Marc Villard, 409B chemin du Carraire in Maubec, is one of them. Several of the other chefs or eateries noted on this list also occasionally offer cooking classes (La Mirande, Jon Chiri, Hugues Marrec, Nadia Sammut and others).

Food markets

A traveler in France would be remiss to not visit a food market, whether in a city, a town or a village. Among the most notable in Vaucluse are the Tuesday morning market at Vaison-La-Romaine, the Friday morning market in Carpentras, the Tuesday morning market at Gordes, the Thursday morning market at L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue, as well as the daily (except Monday) central food market Les Halles in Avignon. Plug in a day and/or town on this map to find a nearby food market while traveling in Vaucluse.

© 2021, Gary Lee Kraut.

The post Cuisine in Provence: Notable Chefs and Restaurants in the Vaucluse Region appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

Several miles short of Auberge La Fenière, my destination on day one of a solitary cycling tour of the Luberon region of Provence, I mistimed braking for a village speed bump and landed on the tarmac, tangled in my bike. The car coming up behind me was far enough back to stop well before reaching me. A car coming in the opposite direction slowed down and stopped alongside. The driver rolled down her window and asked if she should call for help. I stood up, pulled my bike to the side of the road, picked up my saddlebags, and told the driver that I was alright. I twisted the front wheel back straight, uncoiled and reset the brake lines, bent the mud guard back into position, and set off wobbly on the final miles to La Fenière, thinking all the way, “Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap.”

I wasn’t alright. I was battered, bleeding and my ribs hurt. Already I was late arriving at La Fenière, a property (hotel, restaurants, vegetable garden, pool) that owner-chef Nadia Sammut calls a “lieu de vie” or living space. Earlier in the afternoon, I’d lost my way—allowed myself to lose my way—on the slopes of the Luberon Massif and dawdled along its vantage points. I’d planned to arrive at least an hour earlier so as to check in, shower, speak with Nadia, then rest up before dinner. “We’ve been expecting you,” said the receptionist, and seeing my bloody forearm, “Oh my, what happened?” “A little accident.” “Do you want me to call someone? Do you want to go to the hospital?” “No, but if you have some bandages that would help.” She gave me an emergency kit with bandages and antiseptic.

Up in my room—a bright, peaceable space with a long view of the back of the property and the nearby hillside—I looked at myself in the mirror. I was banged up alright. My ribs and thigh and wrist were sore. I had three more days of biking ahead of me. Should I call it quits now? I cleaned and bandaged myself. The bleeding—rough scrapes but no gashes—would soon stop. How badly was I injured? I couldn’t tell. But I shivered at the thought of how lucky I was, aware that my fall could have been worse, much worse. (Yes, I was wearing a helmet.) I had a reservation for the second seating at the restaurant, so I napped for an hour then went downstairs.

As I reached the lobby, I saw Nadia passing through the patio dining area and the kitchen. I introduced myself and apologized for arriving too late to speak with her earlier. In the rush of dinner I had a first glimpse of her generosity of spirit. “I hear you had an accident,” she said, “Are you alright?” I assured her that I was. She said, “We’ll take care of you,” she said, “and we have all morning tomorrow to talk, if you’d like.”

Ernest Hung Do, the sommelier and maître d’, came over to my table to say hello. I told him that I’d just had a “little biking accident” and could use something strong, say, whiskey, to start. He went inside and returned with a bottle of perfumed gin. He explained how and where it was made. But rather than pour a glass, he told me that he didn’t recommend that I have it. Nadia’s meal is constructed to evolve from dish to dish, he explained, and strong alcohol would affect its proper unfolding.

“What do you recommend instead?” I asked.

“Why not just let the meal express itself and I’ll bring some wine?” he said.

“Fine,” I said, “I’d rather not make choices tonight anyway. I’ll follow your lead, and Nadia’s.”

Two dozen peas and a verbena leaf

Nadia Sammut is a culinary explorer. The 12 or so dishes of the 160€ “expérience” tasting menu proceed through a fluid evolution of ingredients and textures that awaken the senses, from the intentionally bland opening to the iodized middle to the smooth finish. (There’s also a 120€ “découverte” tasting menu, but no à la carte menu.)  Nadia’s quest isn’t so much to astonish, I think, but to create harmony. Ernest’s, too, for that matter; the meal was accompanied by Ernest’s coherent yet unobtrusive wine pairing.

“Precise” is how I thought of the slow parade of small dishes that evening, while “consciousness” is a term that Nadia Sammut applies to her culinary approach. The two terms meet in what appeared to be the simplest of dishes: two dozen peas and a verbena leaf the size of a daisy petal. Deceptively simple, though the full description of the dish is more complex: petit pois, crème de placenta de fève, verveine, bourrache, cardamone noire râpée, huile du domaine de Jasson. Still, I can only think of the dish as two dozen peas and a verbena leaf, and for me it lit up the patio. It was my satori moment.

Yes, it’s a dish that can easily be ridiculed: She charges how much for two dozen peas and a tiny leaf? But there you have it, the appetizer through which I realized that such culinary moments are a way of bringing one into oneself: one’s taste buds, one’s environment, one’s sense of self and of a shared meal, both with one’s table companion(s), if any, and with diners at other tables with whom you might never exchange a word. I hadn’t forgotten the physical nature of my fall several hours earlier, but I was no longer restrained by the trauma of it or by my awareness that the following day or two would reveal the full extent of my injuries. Two dozen peas and a verbena leaf allowed me to settle into the—do I dare use the word?—enlightenment of the meal, the surroundings, the evening and my travels into the Luberon. What a beautiful biking day it had been, landing me here!

No, I wasn’t cured from my fall. But I was, for the moment, soothed of it and conscious above all that it could have been much worse. (Five days later I would consult my doctor in Paris. As impressed as he was that I’d continued biking for three days after the fall, he told me that he would have recommended against it. He sent me for x-rays of my left wrist and right ribs. Turns out that I had broken a bone in my wrist, though it was the ribs, apparently without fracture, that hurt more.) But for now, I was pleased with my good fortune of feeling well enough to experience dinner at La Fenière and digesting my trauma while enjoying a precise and natural gastronomy, Nadia Sammut’s gastronomy of nature.

There are greater traumas, of course, not all of which can be soothed by kind service, a good meal and a peaceable setting. Still, all traumas need to be digested, don’t they? Linguistic aristocrats and associated snobs in France will tell you that it’s gauche to wish fellow diners a “bon appétit” before a meal; “appétit,” they’ll say with condescension, refers to the unpleasantries of digestion, which isn’t something one should mention at a polite table. But digesting one’s worries and traumas and anxieties is clearly commendable and worth wishing on one another, like raising a glass to each other’s good health. Furthermore, Nada, having dealt with celiac disease, naturally and implicitly wishes a healthy, nourishing digestion for all of her guests. Bon appétit for sure.

Gluten-free and rooted in Provence

Nadia’s “cuisine libre” (free cooking) approach, as she calls it, is neither a refusal of nor in opposition to the cuisine(s) of Provence. She remains deeply rooted in the region. Her family has lived in the Luberon for several generations. In 1972, her grandmother opened a little bistro in an old hayloft, called une fenière in Provence, in the village of Lourmarin. She then worked with her son, Nadia’s father. And when he married, his wife, Reine, learned how to cook alongside her mother-in-law. Reine Sammut eventually took over the restaurant and, in 1995, became one of the rare women in France at the time to receive a Michelin star for her cuisine. Well-known throughout Provence and beyond, Reine prepared rather traditional gastronomy. In 1996, Nadia’s parents then bought the property that is La Fenière’s current location in the countryside between Lourmarin and Cadenet. Though no longer installed in a hayloft, they brought the name with them.

At around the age of 30, between 2009 and 2011, Nadia was often quite ill from celiac disease. She says that she was basically bedridden for two years. As she explained during our lengthy conversation the morning after my dinner experience, “I said to myself, ‘This can’t be! With my culinary heritage I have to learn an inclusive approach to food that’s respectful of the environment and respect of individuals while being gastronomic and delicious.’”

She began working with her mother in 2015, soon taking the reins of Reine’s kitchen. In 2017, Nadia herself was awarded the Michelin star for La Fenière. Reine stayed with her in the gastronomic restaurant for another year, at which point, as Nadia tells it, her mother said, “You’ve got do it alone now because you have your vision, your intentions, your recipes, and it’s important that you continue to convey them.”

Though celiac disease is a significant part of Nadia’s personal story and of the development of the culinary explorations that have given her much recognition, she would rather not have her cuisine labeled solely as gluten-free. People come for the experience, she says, not for their celiac problems. Of course, there’s often a table or two where someone will speak with her about their digestive issues because they know of her personal experience. She doesn’t mind. She’s had clients who arrive in culinary distress, worried about every little thing they might eat, and she aims to calm them down. “By the second dish,” she says, “they’ve relaxed and are simply happy to be having a good meal, and that sense of happiness extends to the rest.”

Had I not known in advance that the meal would be gluten-free I doubt that I would have noticed. Presented with the chestnut bread, I thought, hmm, chestnut bread—and it was delicious—and then chick-pea bread—that too—without wondering about the absence of gluten. (Nadia operates a mill for the various flours that she then uses in her breads and other flour-based products that are served in the restaurant and available in specialty stores.) Just as one doesn’t think when eating a good piece of fish that it doesn’t taste like beef, one simply enjoys the dish. (Omnivores, by the way, drawn in by the evolution of the meal and the discovery of each small dish, might not even notice that that none of the dishes contains meat.)

“I have no obligations in my cooking,” says Nadia. “First, I don’t cook traditionally because I can’t, so for me there’s an enormous field of permanent research on plants, on living things, on the way to present naturalness and simplicity.”

Asked about her relationship with traditional Provençale cuisine, Nadia claims a clear and present affinity with it, including the techniques that she learned in part from her mother. “Provence,” she says, “has developed its culinary techniques in relation to the products that were available to work with. Provençale cuisine is also that of economy. People paid attention to what went into their cuisine; they didn’t throw anything away. Provençale cuisine is very plant-based. It’s a distinct yet varied cuisine comprised of different smaller regions. People don’t eat the same way in Marseille or in the Camargue or here in the Luberon. Its diversity is quite beautiful and should be brought to light. Its recipes, its beautiful recipes, haven’t been extinguished, and they need to be created and recreated, transmitted from generation to generation. The heart is transmitted with them, that’s a beautiful part of the energy of life.”

Regenerative and holistic

I’d arrived on opening night, so to speak, June 9, 2021, the first evening that La Fenière was welcoming diners since its 2020 Covid closing and months of evening curfew. Dining out without watching the clock was new to all of us, a time of renewal, particularly for those who, like me, prefer a late or second seating in a restaurant.

Nadia uses the term régénérateur—regenerative, something that makes you feel replenished—in speaking of the environment that she set out to create at La Fenière. That environment extends beyond the gastronomic restaurant to include the bistro on the property, the lodging, the landscape, the service, the swimming pool, the kitchen garden, the occasional activities and workshops, and the overall atmosphere. She speaks of the importance of being “conscious” of oneself and one’s environment.

“What’s essential in my life and what I think I’m able to offer others is that sense of self-awareness. To do so requires being connected to both matter and nature. And I believe that the best way to let go is to feel good, to have a sense of trust in a place, to be conscious of where one is. All that is regenerative… I like that people feel good and, beyond feeling good, that there’s a kind of interaction with themselves.”

Nadia is generous enough with her time and spirit to interact with clients if they wish, even during the meal. As she put the finishing touches on dishes in a corner of the dining patio the evening of my visit, diners would occasionally get up to see what she was doing, to ask her questions, and Nadia willingly engaged with them. She came by each table twice to deliver and explain a dish.

My most frequent interaction that evening, however, was with Ernest Hung Do, the sommelier and maître d’, a gentle, knowing, kind presence throughout the meal. Ernest came to France from Vietnam as an infant, his family having fled the country in waves of refugees known as “boat people.” As a young man, he became particularly interested in fish and became a sushi master with his own restaurant. He was named best sushi master in France one year. In 2013, he sold his restaurant since he’d become increasingly interested in all things vegetal, a move from the sea to the earth. He met Nadia’s sister, a food journalist, in Marseille, and her sister said, “You and Nadia speak the same way about food, you should meet.” That was seven years ago. They have been together ever since, as companions and as business partners. “We truly work in synergy together,” says Nadia. I asked Ernest, given his background as a chef, why didn’t he want to work alongside Nadia in the kitchen? “Because I wanted to leave her with her vision in the kitchen while presenting her cuisine and wine to clients.” He does an excellent job of it. (He credits Nadia’s father as one of his mentors in learning about wine.)

“What I do, I believe, is goes beyond the dish,” says Nadia. “I like to lead people to ask themselves questions. When you start out with something that’s bland, you ask yourself ‘Why bland?’ But what’s bland is essential for digestion, it’s essential in silence, in calm. And then something rises up, for example on the shrimp. What especially interests me is that people feel and have sensations. Of course, the dish is a part of an overall experience, and it’s essential that everything about that dish be precise. Then once you have that precision you can talk about everything else. That’s where a meal goes beyond the dishes themselves.”

Each dish grabs attention for its finesse and balance. Following the aforementioned shrimp—it was a raw Mediterranean shrimp with a squid ink emulsion, with a squid ink “chip” that nearly struck me as enlightening as the verbena leaf—the fluidity and complex harmony of a cream of bitter lettuce with an oyster in a sourdough tempura was my favorite dish. After that, the rouille in a dish called “memory of a bouillabaisse” was a discovery in and of itself.

Here’s how Nadia describes her inspiration for the penultimate dish, chickpea ice cream served with a shot of rum: “When I opened that rum a few weeks ago—it’s a friend of mine who makes it, Guillaume Ferroni, in Aubagne [near Marseille], aged in casks sometimes from Rasteau and in this case from Beaumes de Venise—when I opened that rum I said to myself, “Ah, that’s it, that’s what I want to feel,” because even though I don’t drink alcohol, just smelling it made me feel something. I don’t want sugar in my cuisine because sugar releases dopamine, which is quite different than serotonin. I want to work with serotonin, what’s called the hormone of happiness, not the hormone of pleasure. Happiness is more intense; it’s a lot more timeless. It’s something that awakens the interior of our body, not just to make us say ‘Wow’ but to make us conscious, which is much greater.”

“Wow,” is what I also said to myself when I tried the chickpea ice cream and rum. A warm honey-and-chestnut madeleine then served as an endnote to the meal.

La Fenière, a living space

Nadia’s gastronomic restaurant is the centerpiece La Fenière but there are other aspects to the property as well. Above the restaurant, in the main building on the property, there are 12 bedrooms, created in 2017. Nadia plans to develop 30 more lodgings on the opposite end of the property in the form of ecolodges. There’s also a second restaurant on the property, a Mediterranean bistro called La Cour du Ferme. There’s a swimming pool. There are hiking paths. Small-group activities are sometimes organized, such as cooking workshop taught by Nadia on Saturday mornings. Yet I wouldn’t call La Fenière a resort. It’s homier than that. There’s no grand décor, no ostentation. More boutiquish, more palatial, more photogenic accommodations are found elsewhere in the Luberon. What then to call this place?

Nadia calls La Fenière a “lieu de vie” or living space, a place of “positive living, of regeneration and of inspiration,” where guests are invited to “participate in the world in which they wish to live.” That may sound too psychic or new-age for some travelers looking to explore the landscapes and villages of the Luberon, though having stated her goal, Nadia doesn’t demand or expect obedience. She would just like visitors to slow down and be conscious of their surroundings. Thus, the hotel has a two-night minimum.

To me, La Fenière is a cultured, unglamorous countryside estate with an earthy restaurant—an earthy restaurant with an exquisite, inventive, sophisticated, earth-and-seaworthy 160€ tasting menu, but an earthy restaurant nonetheless.

An olive tree stands at the center of the patio around which, weather permitting, the tables are set. A concert of frogs played nearby as I sat at one of them that evening. As their song softened, I became aware of the sound of a bees buzzing in the yard and of Ernest’s soft steps over the paving stones. Was it a form of shock from my fall or a form of denial that I may have fractured my ribs or broken my wrist? Whatever it was, that evening at La Fenière I was one happy, regenerated, conscious traveler.

La Fenière, D943, 84160 Cadenet 84160. Tel. +33 (0)4 90 68 11 79. A 2-night minimum is required at the hotel. The gastronomic restaurant is open only when Nadia is present. The bistro remains open even when she is not. Those staying at the hotel on a Friday evening should ask in advance if Nadia will be giving a cooking class on Saturday morning. Cooking classes are also open to those not staying at the hotel.

Near La Fenière in the southern Luberon: The château and village of Lourmarin; a shaded seat in a café or restaurant by the water basin at Cucuron; olive oil tasting at Bastide du Laval; Mérindol and the history of Waldensian (les Vaudois); the 12th-century Cisterian Silvacane Abbey at La Roque d’Anthéron; the garden conservatory for plants used for dying and coloring in Lauris. Tourist information about the village and the entire Luberon region of Provence can be obtained at the Lourmarin tourist office, Place Henri Barthélémy. The Luberon is in the Vaucluse department or sub-region of Provence. For more articles about Vaucluse see here.

A Video Culinary Conversation with Nadia Sammut

Nadia Sammut was one of my guests at a France Revisited Culinary Conversation with three chefs of the Vaucluse area of Provence, along with Jon Chiri and Hugues Marrec, on June 29, 2021. Nadia appears in the introductory portion of Part 1 and then again for nearly all of Part 2. I invite you to watch at least the first 10 minutes of Part 1 in order to situate Nadia in the region and among the three chefs that I selected for this culinary conversation before proceeding to Part 2, here:

© 2021, Gary Lee Kraut

The post Cuisine in Provence: Nadia Sammut at La Fenière, After the Fall appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

Hugues Marrec named his eatery une auberge or inn, rather than un restaurant because, he says, one doesn’t come to an auberge in search of an extensive menu but in the belief that that the chef will be cooking up something satisfying. And satisfying it was when I biked by for dinner and then stayed the night in one of the inn’s two bedrooms.

Auberge de La Camarette, where he offers a 38€ fixed-price menu, including wine, is situated within Domaine de La Camarette, a wine estate managed by his wife Nancy and her sister, located just outside the pleasing little town of Pernes-les-Fontaines, a dozen miles east of Avignon and four miles south of Carpentras.

Without aspiring to the moniker “gastronomic restaurant,” and shunning the term “semi-gastronomic,” Hugues’s culinary approach might best be described as polished, straightforward terroir. “When you’re surrounded by good fresh products you can’t help but want to cook with them,” he says. Indeed, one need only bike or drive around the Vaucluse area of Provence for a few days to glimpse the variety of local agriculture in the area. La Camarette itself, in addition to vineyard, has an olive orchard as well as wheat, barley and chick-pea fields. The herbs and lemons that Hugues uses in his kitchen come from the family garden. The vegetables may come from neighboring farms. The eggs come from Pernes. If there’s rabbit on the menu it will come from a local producer, the lamb from the Apilles area of Provence, the pork from Ventoux area, and the bull from the Camargue, in the Rhone delta.

If you’re put off by eating beets during beet season or eggplant during eggplant season, blame Mother Nature rather than Hugues Marrec.

It isn’t just the products that are local but a sizable share of the clientele as well. “My clientele is used to making traditional Provençale dishes at home, so that’s not what they come here for,” he says, “other than the occasional daube in winter.” While his isn’t Provençale cuisine in its traditional sense, Chef Marrec clearly prepares a cuisine of Provence. More leeway is given for the choice of fish, which may come from the rivers of Provence or from the Mediterranean or the Atlantic. After all, it would be a shame to refuse a Brittany-born chef the possibility to prepare saltwater fish.

In 1998, at the age of 20, Hugues went to Sun Valley, Idaho, to work, as a commis (assistant) chef. One year later, he was promoted to head chef at one of the resort’s restaurants, proof of both the quality of his training in France and of his ability to adapt and flourish. He lived in Sun Valley at two different periods before the age of 24, for a total of 3½ years, and may well have stayed longer had visas for French not been reduced during the Freedom Fry era of the Second Gulf War. He’s also worked in the UK and in Ireland.

Early in his stay in Sun Valley, Hugues met Nancy Gontier, a Frenchwoman his age from Provence—Pernes-les-Fontaines to be exact. Nancy had come to Sun Valley as an intern in the hospitality industry. After leaving Sun Valley, he and Nancy stayed in touch as they went their separate ways to pursue their respective careers, then met up again when they were both working in London.

In 2006, the two settled in Nancy’s hometown, more specifically her home vineyard. Domaine de La Camarette has been in the Gontier family for several generations. Nancy’s grandparents arrived in the area from Algeria in the early 1960s, where her grandfather’s family, winegrowers in Algeria for several generations, already had connections. Her grandfather purchased La Camarette to develop its farming and vines. (It’s called Camarette because long ago the farm belonged to a certain Camaret family.) The vineyard portion of Domaine de La Camarette covers 45 hectares (111 acres), producing Ventoux appellation wines for the most part—Ventoux being a blend, mostly grenache, syrah and mourdevre—while also producing some single-grape IGP (Protected Geographical Indication) Mediterranée wines: 100% syrah (red), 100% sauvignon blanc (white), 100% mourvèdre (rosé).

Once here, Hugues worked in a restaurant in the vicinity while pondering and preparing for the opening of a restaurant at La Camarette in May 2008. He initially ran it as a one-man kitchen, with Nancy doing the service. But they had a child (they now have two) and it soon proved to be too difficult for the couple to manage everything. Furthermore, Nancy, was managing the wine estate, where her sister would join her in 2009. So he added personnel at the restaurant, which has since expanded.

The 17th-century farm building that is now the inn was created around an earlier bread oven that’s still visible inside. The restaurant is open year-round other than during short vacation periods. Weather permitting (typically May to mid-September), meals are served in the shaded courtyard in front of the building.

Stay away if you require several options on a menu because a meal at Auberge de La Camarette is a 3-course fixed-price affair consisting of a set appetizer, a choice of two main courses (one fish, one meat), and dessert. Included in the price of the meal, currently 38€, are an aperitif and two glasses of wine from Domaine de La Camarette. There is also a wine list for those who would prefer a bottle from elsewhere. A cheese course is proposed at a supplement. The menu changes weekly. There’s no menu online, and Hugues would rather not tell those who call what’s on the menu in a given week. It isn’t that he wants to keep it secret but he’d rather have guests arrive with a willing and open appetite. For indecisive diners, Hugues says, an added advantage of a set menu is that it removes “the stress of the restaurant experience.”

Rest assured, the dishes are recognizable; you’re unlikely to be confronted with something unknown, unusual or artsy. There’s always a choice been a fish and a meat dish, and vegetarians (probably not vegans) can be accommodated if they let their server know that when they arrive. The evening I ate at La Camarette, the main-course choice was between cod and rabbit. The following week the choice was between local trout and duck. Duck was also on the menu when a friend dined at La Camarette and sent me this beauty shot.

Auberge de La Camarette, 439 Chemin des Brunettes, 84210 Pernes les Fontaines. Tel.: +33 (0)4 90 61 60 78.

The inn has two comfortable bedrooms, one at 80-90€/night, the at other 90-105€, including breakfast. Each has its own bathroom. I can well imagine this as a choice stop for two couples or friends traveling together or for a family of three or four. Those staying overnight may well have an opportunity to chat with Hugues and will also be able to have a thorough tasting of Nancy’s wines at the vineyard. There’s a small swimming pool and a shelter for bikes for those on a cycling tour. Next door to the inn, Hugues and Nancy operate two guest houses available for weekly rental. Hugues also conducts occasional cooking workshops.

© 2021, Gary Lee Kraut

A Culinary Conversation with Hugues Marrec

Hugues Marrec was one of my guests at a France Revisited Culinary Conversation with three chefs of the Vaucluse area of Provence, along with Jon Chiri and Nadia Sammut, on June 29, 2021. Hugues appears in Part 1 then again for several minutes in Part 2. See the timeline.

In Part 1, below, the conversation proceeds as follows:

0:00:00 Gary Lee Kraut’s introduction
0:00:44 The 3 chefs introduce themselves
0:02:00 Why these 3 chefs?
0:04:15 Situating the Vaucluse region of Provence where the 3 chefs are located
0:07:45 Some agricultural products grown in Provence
0:10:33 Conversation with Jon Chiri
0:25:28 Conversation with Hugues Marrec

In Part 2, below, the conversation proceeds as follows:

0:00:00 Introduction to Part 2 of this Culinary Conversation
0:00:15 Gary Lee Kraut introduces Nadia Sammut
0:03:15 Nadia Sammut, her background, her cuisine, her philosophy
0:28:14 What is Hugues Marrec preparing for dinner tonight?
0:32:45 What is Nadia Sammut preparing?
0:35:48 Gary’s endnote

The post Cuisine in Provence: Hugues Marrec at Auberge de La Camarette appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

Somewhere along the way of my haphazard, improvisational French culinary education I got interested in olive oil—the diversity of olive oils—the different levels of greenness and maturity, olive varietals, oils produced after slight, controlled fermentation of the olives, and aromatic olive oils. It’s done wonders for my cooking; with few ingredients, I can enhance a salad, vegetable dish, fish or beef with a drizzle of this or a sprinkling of that.

I’m still an olive oil amateur, mind you, but I did get invited onto the jury of an international olive oil competition earlier this year. There were several juries, including a jury of olive oil professionals and juries of individuals experienced in tasting things. Mine was one of the latter. The challenge of being a juror isn’t to say I like this one or that one (anyone can do that) but to articulate your impression of each one, to compare judiciously and to defend your position, if necessary. I don’t know if I was up to the task, but I was certainly into the challenge. Here’s a picture of other members of the jury wondering what I’m doing there.

What was I doing there? I was using and improving my education in olive oil.

That was in Paris, but of course the most interesting way to educate one’s palate, improve one’s ability to articulate, and to meet producers and have fun along the way, is through travel, which for me means leaving Paris. Hitting the road and meeting people who know how to talk about what they produce or create—that’s the way I enjoy educating myself, and I take great pleasure in introducing travelers to those producers and creators.

Bastide du Laval in Cadenet (Luberon)

It was while biking in the Luberon area of Provence—lots of olive orchards in Provence—that I first stopped at Bastide du Laval. You don’t even have to be interested in olive oil to enjoy a walk among the orchards there with a beautiful view out to the Luberon hillscape.

In 1998, Roland and Carine Coupat, after living in the United States for a dozen years working in the tourist and travel industry, decided to return to France, and the following year they bought a wine estate in Cadenet in the Luberon area. While continuing to work in the travel business in France, they planted thousands of olive trees on the property. The trees grew and so did their son Léo. Léo now runs the place, which has about 4000 olive trees spread over 37 acres. Olive oil is the main product but there’s also still vineyard on the estate that produces some easy-drinking wine. Meet Léo.

Like most producers, Léo Coupat makes a wide range of olive oils. As I say, there’s a question of greenness, maturity, varietals, etc. Some of them are more to my taste than others—rather, some I would know how to use more than others. Visitors can have a free tasting of them all and also learn how olive oil is made. Any olive oil education should avoid the study of aromatics for the first semester, but here, on a second visit and with a little experience on my palate, I bought a bottle of Bastide du Laval olive oil with natural truffle aroma. I wanted to figure out how to use it without overpowering a dish. You know truffles, right?, truffe in French, those pungent tumor-shaped mushrooms that are dug up in, among other places, Provence. Call it truffle oil if you like, though that makes it sound as though the oil is from truffles whereas it’s produced by mixing truffle aroma in with the olive oil.

So what to do with this truffle oil? Léo advised me to start by drizzling a little on pasta to get a feel for how to use it. Start with some neutral extra virgin olive oil, he said, so that the fresh pasta won’t stick, then add just a bit of truffle oil, taste, then add more until you’ve found what you consider to be the appropriate dose. So that’s what I did, with a little salt and pepper, and topping my dish with parmigiano reggiano. Quite simple and quite good, I must say. My truffle oil education is now off and running.

So what do I try next? I’m thinking a slight drizzle on roasted or mashed potatoes, maybe grate some cheese on that. I’ll have to think about what cheese to use. If I were a French truffle hunter (or an expensive restaurant during truffle season), I’d add some bits of truffle in scrambled eggs for lunch or dinner, so I suppose that a nip of truffle oil instead of the actual truffles could work. Worth a try. But keep is simple, let the truffle oil do the work. You don’t need a dozen ingredients to make a pleasing meal. A sprinkling on grilled meat? Absolutely, with some herbs on top—herbes de Provence, of course. And pizza, I’ll definitely try it on pizza. How about on fish? Salmon? Maybe. Monkfish. Why not? But you’ve got to be delicate with aromatic olive oil, because as a wise man once wrote: “Just a little, not a lot, or something may happen, you never know…”

Bastide du Laval, 199 Chemin de la Royère, 84160 Cadenet. Tel.: +33 (0)4 90 08 95 80.

CastelaS in Les Baux de Provence

On another trip, driving this time—Saint Rémy, Les Baux, Arles—I had an enjoyable and instructive encounter with Catherine and Jean-Benoît Hugues, producers of CastelaS olive oil, at their mill, tasting room and boutique two miles east of the tourist village of Les Baux de Provence. Coincidentally, for I wasn’t actually looking for an American connection, they, too, had lived in the United States, 15 years in Arizona, before rerooting themselves in Provence in 1997.

Theirs is a tremendous estate, with 110 acres within the olive oil appellation (AOP or Protected Designation of Origin) Vallée des Baux de Provence and another 160 acres outside of the appellation zone. In the photo above, you can see the village of Les Baux in the background. From another angle, one would see the Alpilles in the distance. As at Bastide du Laval, you can enjoy a tasting of their wide range and also visit their installation to see how olive oil is made.

Returning recently, I bought a bottle of Noir d’Olive (Olive Black) oil, which has a deep, rich, slightly peppery, slightly fermented taste. “Perfect for salads, fish, mushrooms, mashed potatoes” reads the bottle, all of which sounds appropriate to me. I started with salad since it’s nearly a dressing in its own right. Next up, fish and mashed potatoes. The CastelaS website provides recipes for use of their olive oils.

Moulin CastelaS, Mas de l’Olivier, 13520 Les Baux de Provence. Tel. +33 (0)4 90 54 50 86. Taking D27 east of the village, you’ll see CastelaS on the left shortly before reaching D5.

Other Provence Olive Oils

Those are but two of the many olive oil producers in Provence. I discovered many other quality producers when the labels were revealed after my participation on the jury of the AVPA olive oil contest. AVPA stands for Agence pour la Valorisation des Produits Agricoles, meaning Agency for the Appreciation of Agricultural Products. Jean-Emmanuel Jourde, AVPA president, and Philippe Juglar, AVPA secretary, have created a judging system to award different types of edible oils (of which I was on one of the olive oil juries), coffees roasted at place of origin, teas of the world, and chocolates processed at place of origin.

(Several months after participating on the olive oil jury, I accepted an invitation to join on the jury for “fantasy” chocolates, which I found much more difficult as far as my own abilities to analyze, describe and rate. Along with notes of citrus, basil, cherry or whatever, I kept finding that the earthy dark chocolates tasted like delicious mud and had trouble finding other words for it without prompting.)

The olive oil competition was international, with most entrants naturally coming from Mediterranean countries, which produces the vast majority of the world’s olive oil. Spanish and Italian olive oils dominated among the winners. Lots of uninspiring industrial olive oils come from those world leaders in production, but we tasted some exceptional artisanal oils from there. French production, by comparison with other countries along the Mediterranean basin, is relatively confidential. Nevertheless, there were some Provençale stand-outs among the awardees,  such Domaine Salvator (Cuvée Paradis), Huile H de Leos (Selection H de Leos Fruite Mur), Moulin à huile de Partegal (Cuve Magali), Moulin Cornille (Cuve 63), which can also be visited also near Les Baux de Provence, and “Lol’ive” Domaine Leydier (Noir cuve 9,2).

Balsamic Vinegar from Bals’Art in Roussillon

“French dressing” as known in the U.S. has little relation to the homemade dressing put on salad in French homes, which is typically a vinaigrette of olive oil, (wine) vinegar, (Dijon) mustard and seasoning. So after getting to know the olive oils of Bastide du Laval and Moulin CastelaS, I jumped on the occasion to get to know the balsamic vinegars of Jean-Michel Martias’s Bals’Art when I chanced upon his shop while visiting the pretty ochre-cliff village of Roussillon during a recent driving tour of the Luberon.

Jean-Michel Martias, who is originally from Marseille and has been producing vinegar since 2017, may have advisors and assistants, but to hear him speak about his balsamic vinegars is to hear the passion of a one-man band explaining how he arranges and plays his instruments. From my point of view as a vinegar novice, though a bit less so after visiting the shop, he presents a superb range of about two dozen vinegars. He also does perpetual research for future products. Most sales are from his shop in Roussillon, where visitors can have an extensive tasting, and online.

Jean-Michel currently produces his vinegars from the musts of organic syrah and granache grapes from Provence and Lambrusco (red) and trebbiana (white) from Italy. He uses low-temperature reduction over 10 to 40 hours, so while his balsamic vinegars don’t follow the process (and pricing) of 12+ years of wooden-barrel ageing that goes into Traditional Balsamic Vinegar of Modena, they are also a far cry from the watered down industrial balsamic vinegars that are typically found in supermarkets. For his flavored vinegars, the flavor comes through maceration of, for example, basil, pepper, lemon or lavender honey.

I purchased a bottle of his Velours Noir (Black Velvet), a dense, syrupy vinegar tasting of ripe cherry and raspberry. Too rich and intense for a vinaigrette, I think. When I called Jean-Michel later from home to ask how else he recommended that I use it, he suggested dribbling it on a tomato or sprinkling it on vanilla ice cream or drizzling some on duck magret. For now, I’ve only enjoyed a few drops on a teaspoon, then a few more drops, and I had to stop myself before consuming the entire bottle as though it were an after-dinner liqueur.

I also bought a balsamic vinegar block, a product that Jean-Michel makes by adding to his vinegar the gelling agent agar-agar, an extract from red seaweed from along France’s Atlantic coast. Using a fine grater, I grated a few bits on an endive salad on which I’d simply poured some of the CastelaS Noir d’Olive mentioned earlier. It tasted as I would have imagined: vinegar strips in an olive-rich salad. Interesting, I’d say for now. Again, I asked Jean-Michel how best to approach the block. Use it wherever you might otherwise add a squeeze of lemon or a drizzle of balsamic vinegar, he told me. In other words, it’s something to play with during recess while pursuing my Provence olive oil education.

Bals’Art, 15 rue du Castrum, 84220 Roussillon. Tel.: +33(0)4 32 52 16 40.

© 2021, Gary Lee Kraut

The post Drizzling in Provence: On the Trail of Olive Oil and Balsamic Vinegar appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

In this one-hour presentation, Gary Lee Kraut, editor of France Revisited, and guest expert Jean-Pierre Soutric, a consultant who advises luxury hotels in France on how to live up to the expectations of demanding and well-heeled travelers from around the world, take you to the southeast France to visit famous and historic hotels along the Riviera.

Part 1 of this luxury hotel series, examining the creation and evolution of luxury hotels in Paris from 1855 to 1909, i.e. from the era of Napoleon III though the Belle Epoque, can be viewed here.

Part 2, which examines the creation of luxury hotels from 1910 to today, can be viewed here.

Stay tuned for part 4, coming in the fall. Invitations to attend France Revisited conversations and presentations live are sent out through the France Revisited Newsletter. If you aren’t already a subscriber, you can sign up now to receive the France Revisited Newsletter.

Luxury on the Riviera: Starting time on video – Topics, towns, hotel

0:01:49 – Where is the Riviera?
0:03:43 – The origins of luxury on the Riviera
0:09:30 – Monaco: Hotel de Paris
0:16:14 – Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat: Grand-Hôtel du Cap-Ferrat and the Ephrussi de Rothschild Villa and Gardens
0:24:05 – Nice: The Negresco, coastal festivals and museums
0:29:23 – Antibes, Juan-les-Pins, Cap d’Antibes: Les Belles Rives, Jazz à Juan, Hôtel du Cap – Eden-Roc
0:44:18 – Cannes: The Carlton, The Martinez, The Majestic
0:50:34 – Saint Tropez: The Byblos, La Réserve Ramatuelle
0:55:08 – When is the best time to go to the Riviera?
0:58:55 – The Riviera, playground for the rich or destination for all?
1:00:24 – Should you use a travel agent to reserve at a luxury hotel?

© 2021. All rights reserved.

Jean-Pierre Soutric follows in the footsteps of three generations in the hotel industry. His great-grandmother opened a hotel in 1914, just before the outbreak of the First World War. Jean-Pierre has held marketing positions at leading hotel groups, including Four Seasons, with which he worked for 20 years. Passionate about history, culture, art and the evolution of French elegance and style through the centuries, he now works as a Paris-based luxury travel and hotel consultant advising luxury hotels in France on how to live up to the expectations of demanding and well-heeled travelers from around the world.

Gary Lee Kraut has been inspiring and informing travelers to France for three decades. His unparalleled experience as an editor, travel writer, journalist, lecturer, consultant and guide has made him one of the most trusted voices for English-speaking travelers, armchair travelers and travel professionals interested in France.

The post The History of Luxury Hotels on the Riviera (Video) appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

From December through March, while grey is the predominant color of the skies of northern Europe, the coastal roads on the Côte d’Azur in southeast France burst into a Kodachrome blur of neon-yellow flowers wedged between a brilliant blue sky and the turquoise Mediterranean.

The mimosa, a hardy Australian acacia, was first introduced to France by the explorer James Cook, who presented the seeds to the future Empress Josephine. But mimosa madness didn’t take root until the late 19th century when the northern aristocrats wintering on the Riviera brightened their holiday villas with this cheery foreign flower that stubbornly stuck to its Australian blooming schedule.

The Côte d’Azur remained a winter destination until the advent of Brigitte Bardot and the bikini turned the region into a summertime fantasy land. More recently, with the goal of reinvigorating winter tourism, several towns in the Var and Alpes-Maritimes regions have banded together to form La Route des Mimosas, the Mimosa Route, 80 miles of bright yellow horticultural heaven between the medieval village of Bormes-les-Mimosas and the perfume capital of Grasse.

The major mimosa action takes place on February weekends when the towns on the route hold their corsos, parades with drum majorettes, local marching bands, and flower-bedecked floats that are planned and painstakingly assembled by village volunteer groups.

This route through the smaller villages is worth following in the summer as well as it provides respite from the crowds in the well-known beach resorts of the Riviera. Even when the mimosa season is over, the gardens and protected nature refuges along this route are among the most exceptional botanical treasures in France even though one botanist’s treasure can be another botanist’s pest, as you’ll discover in your travels along the Mimosa Route.

Bormes-les-Mimosas

The village of Bormes – after enduring the “place-with-all-the-mimosas” epithet for years – changed its name to include the ubiquitous flowers in 1968. And it makes sense: Of the 1,200 varieties of mimosa plants that exist across the world, the latest local plant census claims that 700 different mimosa varieties reside within town limits.

Moreover, the National Conservancy of Mimosa is centered in the greenhouses at the Pépinière Cavatore which nurtures 7,000-8,000 mimosa plants every year. Horticulturist Julien Cavatore waxes eloquent on his family’s specialized knowledge of the Australian acacia. Mimosas, he explains, flourish in the Mediterranean
coastal region although the fickle plants experience difficulties just a few miles (and micro-climates) north in Aix-en-Provence.

“You can’t buy one of my ‘babies’ unless I think you can care for it properly indoors or replant it in an appropriate garden environment,” Cavatore says. Indoor mimosa seedlings must be coddled like a cranky, anti-social houseguests, sequestered in an otherwise unused, unheated room with frequent watering and careful attention to their specific soil requirements.

Therefore, it’s a whole lot easier to connect with mimosas al fresco. The Australian gardens in Bormes-les-Mimosa’s spectacular, three-quarter acre Parc Gonzalez showcase the golden flowers in addition to other exotic plants such as banksia and eucalyptus. For fans of manmade culture, note that architectural jewels such as the 16th-century chapel dedicated to Saint Francis of Assisi (who visited Bormes on his anti-plague tour in 1481) show up in many of the garden settings.

The town’s major non-floral tourist attraction is the Fort de Brégançon, a 15th century military installation designated as a presidential vacation residence since 1968. Rarely used in recent years while running up an annual maintenance bill of 200,000 €, Former President François Hollande opened it to the public in 2013 although his successor seems less likely to relinquish the keys on a permanent basis. President Emmanuel Macron has already installed a swimming pool on the premises and entertained Theresa May at Brégançon for Brexit talks in August 2018. Open to visitors in July and September only. Tickets available through the Bormes-les-Mimosas Tourist Office.

The Domaine du Rayol in Rayol-Canadel-sur-Mer

In 1908, Parisian businessman Alfred Courmes purchased 99 acres of wild beachfront terrain and began to build his personal paradise with a mini-farm, a grandiose villa and an antique-style pergola. After several subsequent private owners, the property was destined to be chopped up for building units in 1974 until several local associations protested.

The environmentalists’ ecological dream came true in 1989 when the land was acquired by the Conservatoire du Littoral, the French coastal protection agency. The Domaine du Rayol, 49 acres of Mediterranean herb-and-pine-scented brush called maquis, is the anti-Versailles. No orderly rows of petunias. No geometric parterres. No fountains with Greek gods. The Domaine du Rayol is a “planetary garden” in the words of its landscaper-in-chief Gilles Clément, as well as a “moving garden” in constant evolution.

The first idea on Clément’s drawing board was a patchwork of regional greenery native to Mediterranean-style climates all over the world. Thus, during the December-to-March mimosa season, it’s hard to miss the bright gold Australian reserve. But there’s much else to see as well as other areas are devoted to graceful Asian ginko trees, Californian chaparral and Jurassic Park-style giant ferns from New Zealand. A remarkable 300-year-old cork tree stands as a gnarled reminder that this region once earned its baguettes-and-butter from the production of wine corks.

Nature lovers should plan for a full day to explore the grounds; there’s a charming outdoor café for lunch and snacks. And the plant life isn’t all on dry land either. Visitors can check out the seaweed too because the Domaine offers summertime wading tours along the beachfront as well as snorkeling expeditions. For the latter, all equipment is provided. Reservations are mandatory through the Domaine du Rayol website. While on that site, see if your plans coincide with one of the tree-climbing Sundays or the summer concert schedule.

Sainte Maxime and Saint Raphael

These side-by-side beach resorts have very different architectural profiles: The most lavish holiday villas in Sainte Maxime are stripped-down examples of Art Deco, whereas the shoreline of Saint-Raphael is dominated by the extravagant, wedding-cake fantasies of the Belle Epoque.

Both towns provide a large choice of Provençal boutiques. During winter, many local pastry shops stock mimosa-flavored chocolates produced at the artisanal candy workshop “La Muscadine” in Sainte-Maxime. Like Ray Bradbury’s Dandelion Wine, they taste like Riviera sunshine on the tongue. If you miss the mimosa season, console yourself with Muscadine’s chocolate creations flavored with lavender, violet, and rose petals.

Mimosa continues to delight tourists, florists and perfume companies (more later) but every splash of yellow at the Massif de l’Estérel nature reserve in Saint Raphael is regarded with fear and loathing by the Park Service. It turns out that mimosa, like most things in life, has a dark side.

The reserve, a hiker’s dream, dominated by dramatic red cliffs overlooking the Mediterranean, has become an anti-mimosa battleground. Mimosa may be notoriously picky about its climate and soil preferences but, like Goldilocks, when it gets what it wants it takes over. “It’s an invasive foreign plant that crushes the local flora. Cutting, uprooting and burning simply encourages it to spread,” explains Forest Ranger André Frey. Mimosa is Nature’s Nietzsche: what doesn’t kill it, makes it stronger.

The Estérel Reserve, a haven for native Côte d’Azur pines, thyme and sage, offers a variety of walking tours and bike, VTT and even motorcycle treks are available. Information is available through the Saint Raphael Tourist Office.

Tanneron and Mandelieu-La Napoule

In August 1986, fires destroyed 12,480 acres of Riviera forest and the hardest-hit area was the Tanneron Mountain. During mimosa season, that hill is now entirely and breathtakingly golden in winter; the traditional Mediterranean brush is nowhere in sight, which is worrisome to many botanists. Tanneron can therefore be seen is either a glorious symbol of flower power or the scary incubator of yellow peril. It all depends on what side of the botanical barricades you’re on.

Just a few miles away, Mandelieu-La Napoule takes most of its golden color from the Palme d’Or (The Gold Palm) at the nearby Film Festival. A bedroom community of Cannes, Mandelieu is more international than the previous towns on the route and has its own Michelin-starred restaurant, L’Oasis.

Nevertheless, it hosts its own folkloric corso (the 2019 theme was Marco Polo complete with dromedaries) which parades right past the 14th century chateau lovingly restored by American artist Henry Clews Jr (1876 – 1937) and now open to the public. There’s a distinct fairy-tale aura to the castle—the stone inscription over the door reads “Once Upon a Time.”

Grasse

Surrounded by fields of blossoms, Grasse is the fragrance capital where mimosa (and roses and jasmine and violets…) are distilled into tiny bottles of money. Last year, it gained listing to the UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage register for its floral savoir-faire in the arts of perfumery.

Mimosa is one of principal scent factors in Amarige (Givenchy), Paris (Yves Saint Laurent), Champs-Elysées (Guerlain), L’Eau d’Azur (Occitane), Masumi (François Coty) and Moment Suprême (Jean Patou).

Fragonard, established in Grasse in 1926, simply calls their mimosa scent Mimosa. At present, the Perfume Museum in Grasse offers limited exhibits while under renovation. All the more reason to head to Fragonard, which has its own museum (yes, there’s a relation to the painter) and workshops (reserve ahead) where visitors can get a chance to make their own fragrance.

Planning Your Trip

If beginning the Mimosa Route in Bormes-les-Mimosas, Toulon-Hyères is the closest airport and Toulon and Hyères are the closest TGV stations. If starting in Grasse, Nice is the more convenient choice whether arriving by train or plane.

Information on planning a trip to the areas covered by the Mimosa Road is found on the official tourist sites of the department of Var, the Côte d’Azur and the Mimosa Route, in addition to those of the towns mentioned in this article.

Fancy four-star options are thin on the ground at present but they’re in the works: The Belle Epoque-style Grand Hotel of Bormes-les-Mimosas (ca 1903), is currently under renovation and construction is slated to begin on an all-new luxury hotel on a hillside overlooking the old town of Grasse.

In the meantime, profit from charming (and bargain-priced for the Riviera) options such as the Café du Progrès in Bormes-les-Mimosas whose casual restaurant serves some of the best home-made tapenade on the coast as well as lush plats du jour such as minced lamb pastilla. The cozy inn above the restaurant has a small but refreshing pool.

One pays extra for the waterfront views at the venerable Excelsior Hotel in Saint Raphael, but more dramatic scenery is offered by city-side rooms that overlook the remarkable Roman-Byzantine Notre-Dame de la Victoire Basilica, built in 1883 from the region’s pink sandstone.

The Café de France in Sainte-Maxime has been run by the same family since 1852. Directly across from the town’s small but lively fish market, it’s a great place to sample daurade (sea bream) in butter sauce with a side of black rice topped with white truffles. There’s live jazz on winter weekends.

© 2019, Corinne LaBalme

The post Winter on the Riviera: The Mimosa Route appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

* * *

Imagine visiting Boston in the 1980s and looking for the bar from Cheers, or New York City in the 1990s in search of the Seinfeld diner, or again in 2001 for the coffee shop in Friends. Do that and you can well imagine the excitement that fans of France’s longest-running TV series, Plus belle la vie (Life’s so sweet), feel when they come to Marseille in search of the Mistral Bar in the Mistral district.

They won’t find the Mistral, of course, since it’s a fictional bar in a fictional neighborhood, but the Mistral district was largely inspired by the Panier, which is a very real and stroll-worthy district just a ten-minute walk from the Old Port.

Created in 2004 and still going strong, Plus belle la vie is an easy-going prime-time urban soap opera with myriad characters. It’s a glossy, brightly colored soap, not quite comedy, not quite drama, far from “true” but with frequent nods to issues of the day. Extracts from the series can be seen on its official website.

Since the show is shot then shown with little delay its writers are able to incorporate current events into the storyline. This allows characters to discuss the issues of the day while living out their fictional lives, loves, friendships and melodramas. Demonstrations held during parliamentary debate on same-sex marriage, the aftershock of the terrorist attack against the weekly Charlie Hebdo and the kosher supermarket, and the French moratorium on the exploitation of shale gas have all been discussed by characters while the subjects were still headlining the news. Questions of racism, homosexuality, violence, rape, and drug and alcohol addictions all find a place in the not-to-be-taken-too-seriously soap-opera-style intrigue. The show is broadcast at 8:25pm, overlapping with the prime evening network news hour.

Most of the scenes of Plus belle la vie are shot behind the closed doors of the La Belle de Mai studios, in the 3rd district of Marseille, rather than in the Panier. Nevertheless, fans visiting Marseille and looking for the Mistral Bar, one of the central settings in the series, will often end up reveling in a drink at the Bar des 13 Coins, 45 rue Sainte-Françoise on the Panier’s Place des Treize Cantons, which the show’s production designer says inspired the fictional Mistral Bar in the TV series. The Bar des 13 Coins is a small family café-restaurant with outdoor tables on a shady terrace with three big trees and colorful artwork on the facade. Like a café-bar on a village square in Provence, this is the venue to meet friends to share the trials and joys of everyday life in the sunny side of France.

In a sense, Plus belle la vie could take place anywhere in France, except for the occasional view of the Mediterranean or of Notre Dame de la Garde Church or talk about the OM, Marseille’s soccer team. Furthermore, the actors don’t even speak in the colorful singing accent of southern France, let alone with the slang of Marseille. Some say that if the real local accent were spoken it would be necessary to have subtitles in French. But even removed from local reality “Plus belle la vie” has been a hit in Marseille as well as throughout France.

Viewers have love-hate relationships with the assortment of characters, while the central character remains the neighborhood itself. Which brings us to the real Panier, a district of narrow, sloping streets, colorful facades and shutters, laundry hanging out the window, and a history of written history dating back to the ancient Greeks.

From ancient Greeks to poor immigrants to cut-throat films to gentrification

Settled in 630 BC by the ancient Greeks, the Panier (long before it took on its current name) was the area first settled in Marseille. More recently, due to its location near the seaport, the Panier has continued to welcome successive waves of immigration: Neapolitans, Corsicans, South Americans, North Africans, Vietnamese and Comorians from the islands near Madagascar.

This neighborhood draws its name from the Logis du Panier, an inn that existed in the area in the 17th century and probably had a basket (panier) suspended outside. The Panier became a poor, working class neighborhood, what the French call a quartier populaire, when in the 17th century, wealthy merchants left it to settle in the new neighborhoods in the east which were created under the impetus of Colbert during the reign of Louis XIV. By the mid-19th century the Panier had acquired its reputation as a rough, dangerous, crime-ridden area, a reputation that it held onto until several decades ago.

The “Mediterranean noir” writer, Jean-Claude Izzo (1945-2000), who grew up in the Panier, paints an old Bronx-like picture of the area in “Total Chaos” or “Total Kéhops” in French. Izzo’s crime fiction follows the protagonist Fabio Montale, a disillusioned local cop making his rounds on the hard, seedy  streets of this neighborhood, a den for gangs and drug dealers, full of sailors, prostitutes and whorehouses.

Izzo also vividly describes the demolition by the German occupying force of a section of the Panier in 1943, as they considered its maze of narrow streets to be a haven for resistant fighters, refugees, criminals, prostitutes, Jews and Communists. On January 24, 1943, some 30,000 inhabitants from the neighborhood were evacuated, with about 2,000 sent to concentration camps. Then 1,500 houses in the lower section of the Old Town were dynamited.

Through the eyes of Montale, readers witness the humiliation of Fabio’s father, a docker at the port, and his mother, who toiled away 14 hours a day, packing dates. They were rounded up in the middle of the night on January 24, 1943 because of an expulsion order. Fabio reflects back about that day and the Nazis’ dream of destroying part of this neighborhood as it was considered to be a den of degenerate behavior.

A mini-series based on Izzo’s books, with Alain Delon starring as Fabio Montale, was shown on French TV in 2002.

Even just 20 years ago the Panier was known as a cut-throat area and was largely avoided by those living outside the neighborhood. Its cinematic reputation didn’t help. Borsalino (1970), directed by Jacques Deray and starring Alain Delon and John-Paul Belmondo, is a famous French gangster movie taking place in 1930. La French (in English, The Connection) (2014), directed by Cédric Jimenez and starring Jean Dujardin and Gilles Lellouche, is an action film about a drug gang in the 1970s.

The City of Marseille began renovating the Panier in 1983, and little by little the neighborhood has changed. Increasingly gentrified while retaining some funk and grit, the Panier is now viewed as far safer than decades ago. It has been called Marseille’s Montmartre. Artist studios, craft shops and trendy cafes and bars have replaced brothels of the past.

Several years ago a local association and a local theater teamed up to produce as a community project a counter-version of Plus belle la vie called C’est pas joli, joli (It’s not a pretty picture). Residents of the Panier got their hand at acting, guided by professionals but bringing to the screenplay their own interpretation. Here are the first and second episodes.

Visiting the Panier

Large portions of the Panier are closed to car traffic from late morning onwards, giving the neighborhood a distinctive atmosphere of a village in Provence, in particular around the Bar des 13 Coins.

Bocce ball, which the French call boules, with pétanque being its Provencal version, is right at home here… at the Musée de la Boule, a fun mix of shop, museum and a pétanque court. And where there is pétanque in Provence there’s sure to be pastis, the anise-flavored spirit and cocktail associated with summer days in the South of France. So it’s no surprise to find the Janot Pastis Boutique next to the Boule Museum. Also nearby is Le Clan des Cigales, a restaurant serving Mediterranean cuisine based on French products. A boutique across the street sells santons, small figurines placed in traditional Provence Nativity-village scenes. From there you need only follow your nose to find nearby another product associated with this city: Marseille soap, made with vegetable oils.

The Panier is very hilly, so for less walking the district can be visited by taking the little tourist “train,” which can be gotten at the Quai du Port across from City Hall (Hôtel de Ville). The main sights will be pointed out with recorded commentary in French, English and Italian. Riders can hop off to visit La Vieille Charité, formerly a home for the poor and wayward built between 1671 and 1749, which is one of the city’s most important historical monuments. La Vieille Charité now houses museums with a permanent collection of archeology from around the world, galleries, a cultural center, a café and a small cinema. A temporary exhibit examining the travels of the American writer Jack London in the South Seas is being shown here from Sept. 8, 2017 to Jan. 7, 2018.

A bilingual (English/French) walking tour of Le Panier is available through the tourist office on Saturday from 10:30 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. It sets out from the Tourist Office located at 11 La Canebière and enters the heart of the Panier district via the Port area, just as the ancient Greeks did. The tour ends at the Place de Lenche, site of the Greek agora and the Roman forum. The area, busy with cafés and restaurants, offers a spectacular view of the old Port and the Notre Dame de la Garde Church.

The tour provides the keys to understanding the development of Marseille through the centuries, including the separation between the wealthier coastal zone to the south and the poorer neighborhoods to the north, and reconstruction work that was necessary following demolition by the German occupying force in 1943.

Near the Panier: The Cathedral and the MuCEM

Just as one doesn’t go to Paris to only visit Montmartre, one doesn’t come to Marseille simply to visit the Panier, hardcore Plus belle la vie fans aside.

Nearby, down by the marine terminal, is the enormous Sainte Marie Majeure Cathedral, often referred to as La Major. Marseille’s recent architectural claims to fame are three stunning museum buildings: the Villa Méditerranée cultural and conference center, the Regards de Provence Museum, and the MuCEM. They were all inaugurated in 2013, the city’s year as the European Capital of Culture. (Marseille has been named European Capital of Sport for 2017, but that’s another story.)

The most popular and renowned of the three is the MuCEM, the Museum of Mediterranean Civilization and Culture. More than a museum, actually, the MuCEM is a multidisciplinary cultural institution housing the Mediterranean Gallery, major temporary exhibitions, and much more.

A panoramic view can be had from the rooftop terrace eating and drinking area, which includes four spaces—café, snack, casual, chic—collectively called Le Môle Passédat. Reservations are recommended for the most polished of these, La Table. The eateries are overseen by Gérard Passédat, chef of the 3-star Michelin restaurant Le Petit Nice located in the Marseille’s 7th arrondissement.

Meanwhile, the port remains the city’s long-time home to bouillabaisse, the centerpiece of Marseille’s sea-inspired cuisine.

Other opportunities for fine dining, shopping and artist exhibitions can be found in the beautifully renovated Docks Village, which opened in 2015, or the Terrasses du Port. These renovations and constructions were part of the ambitious Marseille-Euroméditerranée project, which was initiated in 1995 to renovate a nearly 1200-acre zone in the heart of the city, between the commercial harbor, the Old Port and the TGV station. Involving a 7-billion euro investment, it was at the time the largest urban renewal project in southern Europe.

Crime and Safety in Marseille

Marseille is often compared to my own hometown of Chicago in terms of crime and safety. Drug- and weapons-related gang and organized crime violence are not uncommon in certain quarters. As in Chicago, in Marseille I would avoid certain areas, especially at night. That goes for much of the 3rd arrondissement, one of the poorest neighborhoods in France. The centrally located St. Charles train station may have been beautifully modernized but I would not loiter around the station area. Neither would I walk around La Canebière at night. Keeping an eye on one’s luggage, not placing a purse on the ground by one’s chair in a restaurant, and not flaunting expensive-looking costume jewelry, let along the real thing, are common sense tips that don’t solely apply to Marseille but are worth keeping in mind with respect to this city.

But don’t let those warnings keep you away from discovering France’s second largest city and most multicultural port city, particularly the portions described in this article. For my recent visit, I booked accommodations in the Panier itself and walked around the neighborhood alone at night. I felt safe on the Waterfront with the MuCEM and other new museums, at the port. There’s a police station, the Commissariat de l’Evéché, a stone’s throw from the Major Cathedral at the entrance of the Panier.

(c) 2017

Wendy Dubreuil is a conference interpreter with a passion for French TV shows and films and challenging social issues.

The post In Search of the Sweet Life in Marseille’s Panier District appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.